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Get Back To Work, You Bum!
Cell2 The big house. Prison. The pen. Whatever. You're in here. Suffer. Obvious exits: Out leads to Security Room. Red Alert enters from security. From Security Room, Red Alert has left. Red Alert has arrived. Nightbeat is sitting in the Big House in the quietest corner of his cell. He is slouched against a wall, knees up and head down. Nightbeat has a harmonica, but he isn't playing it now. Instead, he's thinking: /It was nice of them to come an' visit. Too nice. Better than I deserve. I can hear him coming. He'll give me what I really deserve. He might not even know that he's coming yet, but he is. There - that's the two mile mark. He can hear me now for sure, and he'll come./ /He's going to ream out whoever forgot to confiscate my harmonica./ Red Alert's footsteps are swift and angry. They don't fall heavily - he's moving too fast to stomp - instead producing a furious 'skiff-skiff-skiff-skiff-skiff' on the metal floor. It pauses into figiting on the grav-lift, then picks up again when he reaches this floor. Pause. Whoosh! Security door opens. Skiff-skiff-skiff-skiff. Tappity-tappit-tap - keypad entry. Skiff-skiff-skiff-skiff-skiff. Klink-klink - hands resting at hips, not quite at the same moment. "Now! Would you mind explaining why the /blazes/ you're still in here - " he lifts one hand to point, " - when you should be out /there/ - " he points again, "doing your job?! Or is this some sort of vacation?!" Over the last week and a half, Red Alert has had exactly three Autobots he could be (generally) sure weren't trying to kill him. One of them was Kup, and angry's contagious. Nightbeat had heard some of the other Reavers out and about. He's honestly not sure why he's still in the cooler. He is pretty clearly missing his badge. Nightbeat shrugs and replies, "I dunno. Someone hauled me into the slammer, and no one's let me out yet. 'sides, you'd trust me to do my job? After what I did? To /you/?" He snorts incredulously. "Oh, I'd still be watching you," Red Alert snaps, arms now crossing instead. "However, I've received a report from Lightspeed updating me on the current... situation, and it's only made it absolutely clear how /little/ these people understand about security!" He again points towards the door. "Do you have any idea what they've been /doing/ while you've been sitting around, taking a break?!" Nightbeat stands and paces, nearing the bars. He puts the harmonica away and his hands behind his back. He snarls, "Taking a break? That's what you call being locked up in the Big House? I don't have room to transform, even if I could!" He pauses, thinks, and replies, "Well, apparently, they found you. Last I'd heard, you, Kup, Fireflight, and Springer were thought dead, Oh, and there's a new girl around. Orange. Easy on the optics." "Built using knowledge stolen from our greatest enemy and gained while the builder was under the influence of a rogue creation factory, yes," Red Alert agrees. He lifts his left hand and turns it so that he can look at his palm. "And, checking my records, done without any kind of authorization at all... and boy, am I going to have a talk with Perceptor," touches his index finger, "/and/ Jetfire," now he touches his middle finger, "about /that/. But. Of course. There's no /possible/ way creating a robot under those circumstances can lead to trouble. And no, we weren't dead. Some might argue that we were in hell, but only those who hadn't actually /been/ there." And now Red Alert glares at Nightbeat. Nightbeat stares bleakly at Red Alert, his orange optic band shaded by the tilt of his head. He says simply, "Oh. Figured it had to be pretty bad for you to want me out." He smirks lopsidedly, but it vanishes quickly. "I did you wrong. There's really nothing I can do to make up for it, and I... they did something to my mind. Fragmented it. The Reaver had all the memories but no conscience. The Autobot I was before had the conscience but not all the memories. Now, I have the memories, and I... am having a slagging lot of trouble living with myself right now." Red Alert unlocks Nightbeat's cell. "Well, you'll get no pity from me. Especially not if your reaction is to sit around /here/ all day. You /owe/ me, Nightbeat, and the only thing that can make good on the sort of things you did is not guilt, and not words, and not apologies. It's more actions, the /right/ kind of actions. I am giving you the benefit of a doubt, yes, but that's partly because all the rest are running about free, anyway." Red Alert throws his hands up in exasperation at that. "And you're in intelligence. And right now, while the Decepticons are off balance, we /need/ our intelligence personel active. But do not think this means I won't be keeping an eye on you!" Nightbeat inquires, slightly flippantly, "Would it have made you feel better if I had picked the lock on that cell and gotten out?" He's probably going to regret saying that, isn't he? Nightbeat doesn't make any sudden motions as he exits the cell, but he does stretch a bit. Freedom! From Security Room, Nightbeat enters from cell1. From Cell2, Nightbeat has left. Security Room This room is dominated by the west wall which consists of a multitude of security monitors, viewing each and every room within Autobot City. A desk in the middle of the room is bare, except for the terminal standard for every office here. A forcefield to the east makes sure that those in the Brig stay there. A window on the northern wall gives a good view of the forest beyond. Contents: TAI Relay Sensor Relay Sensor Station Main brig computer Obvious exits: Cell2 <2> leads to Cell2. Cell1 <1> leads to Cell1. Secure Doors leads to Main Lobby - Second Floor. From Cell2, Red Alert leaves the cell. Red Alert enters from cell1. Red Alert has arrived. "No, because your first assignment is to make those cells as escape-proof as possible!" Red Alert can't technically order Nightbeat around, because they're in different divisions, but that's not going to stop Red Alert from trying. He'll probably claim situational authority or some such. Nightbeat looks over at Red Alert incredulously. Then, he sighs and says lowly, "Thank you." A little more loudly, he asks, "Couldja re-enable my radio and take my mode lock off?" He doesn't ask for his weapons or his badge back. He figures he'll get those when he deserves them. If he ever does. Red Alert shakes his head, utterly amazed that they'd put this much security around Nightbeat, and then just allow Perceptor to engage in dark sciences willy-nilly. This is obviously what happens when Red Alert is gone for a week and a half. "Right, right," Red Alert says, closing the distance to tap in the code to remove the mode lock. Next is the radio. What the world needs now, is Red Alert and Kup, sweet Red Alert and Kup. That's the only thing that there's just too little of. Nightbeat has to resist transforming while he waits for the radio lock to come off. He inquires idly, "So... escape-proofing these cells, eh? I mean, if you really don't want someone to escape, you knock 'im out." Red Alert sighs. "Yes, of course," Red Alert agrees. "But for some reason, if we keep them unconscious /too/ long, people start complaining that it's cruel." He throws his arms up, frustrated. "As if they're not prisoners for a reason!" Then he calms down. "And I realize that nothing's /completely/ escape-proof," after all, Red Alert recently escaped from Hell, "but just see if there's any improvements to be made?" Nightbeat is kind of a bad cop. Miranda Rights? What? He agrees, "Yeah, I don't get that, either." Nightbeat starts looking the cells over a bit more critically, as if he hadn't before. Evidently, he really did just spend all his time in there sitting and brooding. Red Alert nods. "All right. Thank you." Then he turns and storms off to figure out what /other/ ways the Autobots have gone insane in his week and a half away. Unfortunately, his final report to Kup will include notes of possible conspiracy with the wood elves and a concern that the Decepticons are training house cats to carry surveillance gear, but hey. Nightbeat shoots off a lazy salute at Red Alert and gets down on his hands and knees, considering the forcefield projectors. Hmm, now these are interesting. What does it take to overload them, he wonders. Red Alert vanishes out of reality. Red Alert has left. Autobot Message: 3/128 Posted Author Cell Security Overview Sat Jan 03 Nightbeat ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Locked to rank 4+ As per Red Alert's orders, I checked out the security in the cells. Here are my notes and recommendations * The floor, walls, and ceiling are metal. Conductive. This is quite bad. For one thing, data could theoretically be transmitted out or into a cell via electrical conduction. Moreover, a sufficiently motivated captive could use his or her internal electrical stores to electrocute the guards through the floor and fry the forcefields. Thermal conductivity is also an issue. A prisoner running off exotic fuel - probably a spacer of some sort - might be able to melt a way out of the cell. My recommendation would be that the cells be entirely coated in a nonconductive, insulating ceramic coating. Also, more surge protectors for the associated electrical systems. * Resonant vibrational frequencies are an issue. Get the right one, and the cell will rattle itself apart. Need sound dampening tiles to cancel out these effects. * Along the line of sonic issues, a prisoner emitting the correct sonic frequency could shatter the guards' optics. Need anti-sound suppression systems to filter out dangerous frequencies. * By rejiggering one's optical luminance tori, a prisoner could create an improvised flash grenade. I suggest that a layer of filtering glass be placed in front of the bars. * In fact, scrap the bars and make it a forcefield sheet. Letting prisoners stick their hands through the bars is just asking for trouble. * Get rid of the exposed bolts and nuts on the cell berths. Could be disassembled as a throwing weapon. If I find anything else, I'll let you know. Very Respectfully, Nightbeat